Assignment
by LittleMissAnthrope
Summary: Rod promised Matt and Mello an interesting assignment, but Matt never would have guessed this.


**A/N:** Hey guys! This is my FIRST EVER FANFIC (fanfic virginity? gone forever.)... so... please be nice? I mean, if it totally sucks, you don't have to TELL me that (well, you can, just be nicer in your phrasing than that), just tell me how to IMPROVE. That's why I'm here. :)

One-shot, Matt POV. Appearances include: Mello, Matt, Rod, unnamed thugs, 1 OC, mention of Yagami Soichiro & Matsuda Touta. Contains: 1 incidence of rape (not explicit), some crude humor. Warning: Mello is portrayed in an IC manner but unfavorable light.

**Disclaimer:** I do **not** own Death Note, or any of the characters that appear in this fanfiction other than Amaya. I made her up totally. (Why she is related to a character that is Japanese and looks totally like Irish or something, I have no idea. Maybe she's adopted.)

So... please enjoy! ^^

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Rod had promised us an interesting assignment, but I never would have guessed _this_.

Mello opened the heavy steel door—the room was dank, dirty, and dark save for a faint glow in the corner. I focused on it, and blinked.

"A girl?" Mello and I both spoke at once—but his voice was a bark of harsh laughter, while mine held merely bewilderment.

She was all shine—the dim light streaming through the open door bouncing through her wild red hair, her wide green eyes sparkling with tears, faint glint of even, white teeth in her slightly open mouth, pale skin faintly luminescent. Perhaps sixteen years of age in all.

Our purpose was clear.

Mello laughed again, and turned towards me, eyebrow raised and tone mockingly polite. "You don't mind if I have mine first, do you, Matt?"

I didn't reply, just kept my face deliberately emotionless as I slid back further into the shadows, knowing what was about to happen and totally powerless to stop it.

I watched as Mello stalked forward, advancing towards the cowering girl predatorily. Then I turned my eyes away in disgust that he couldn't see with his back to me.

But I could still hear.

I heard the girl's gasp, whimpers, and finally a terrified high-pitched keening as Mello panted and grunted brutishly over her.

I heard it all.

When Mello had finally finished and pulled away, the girl was sobbing and hugging herself as she rolled away from him, as soon as his weight left her.

Mello walked back towards me, still breathing heavily and covered in a light layer of sweat.

"What?" he grunted, uncomprehending. "Aren't you going to have yours?"

He looked from me, unwilling and impassive, to the still piteously weeping girl and back again. His scarred face split into a malicious smirk as he mistook my slight flush of suppressed rage for something else.

"Ohh, is that it, Mattie? Well," he clapped a hand on my shoulder, "I'll just leave you two alone, then."

One last leer for the girl, a condescending smile for me, and he strode cockily out of the room, slamming the door as he went.

For a long moment the only sound in the quiet near-darkness was the girl's continuing sobs.

I doubt she heard my approach, for when my gloved hands descended on her quaking shoulders she gave a violent tremor and cowered away from me.

I maintained my grip despite her desperate cringing, firmly lifting her into a sitting position as I knelt next to her.

"Shh, shh, I'm not going to hurt you," I promised in a rapid whisper, trying to be soothing without the least idea how.

When she finally quit fighting me and remained sitting on her own free will, I removed my hands to lift my goggles, leaving them to rest on top of my hair.

Even crouching, I was still much taller than her—she threw her head back to look at me, green eyes rimmed with red and still full of despair and distrust.

"I won't hurt you," I repeated. "I'm not like—" I stopped.

"The other one," she hissed out through her teeth.

"Yeah, him. Mello. He's kinda—" I stopped again, and sighed, running a hand through my hair. I didn't even know where to _begin_ when it came to explaining Mello.

"He's a _monster_." Despite the indelicate rage in her delicate voice, she sounded a bit calmer. She continued to tremble.

I was silent. Loyalty or no, what could I say?

It was quiet for a few moments, though her breathing continued to shudder and hitch occasionally. My heels began to ache and numb, so I leaned back to sit on my feet. Suddenly the girl pitched forward, tumbling into my lap like a rag doll.

I was instantly panicked—what was wrong with her? After making sure she was still breathing, I carefully lifted her tiny, limp form in my arms and carried her to the far wall, where an ancient mattress (for some reason) was propped up. One prod from my boot knocked it flat, sending a huge cloud of dust into the air. My arms occupied, I turned my face to sneeze into my shoulder.

I settled on the mattress, sitting with my back against the wall and my legs stretched out in front of me. The girl I placed carefully on my lap, leaning most of her weight against my chest. I supported her shoulders with one arm. With my free hand, I gently stroked her hair.

Within a few minutes she came round—gradually. Faint mumbles and moans escaped her lips as she stirred feebly, her hair shivering in waves over my arms. Suddenly she stiffened—and then just as abruptly went limp again, crumpling against my chest, burying her face against the striped material as she was wracked with fresh sobs. "Why? _Why_?" She begged again and again in a broken voice.

Again, I was at a loss for words. I just did my best to comfort her, alternatively stroking her hair and rubbing her back as she slowly drained herself.

Finally she was still. Bracing her hands against my shoulders, she pulled herself up to stare into my face. "W-what's your name?" she quavered.

"Matt," I said, the pseudonym rolling off my tongue automatically. _Damn it, I owe her _something _after this hell_.

"No," I said on almost the same breath. "My… I'm sorry. My name's Mail."

Her brow furrowed briefly, then smoothed as her eyes widened with understanding.

"An… an alias? But why?" she whispered.

"… Don't you know where you are?" I asked, disbelieving.

"They blindfolded me… when they brought me here," she said, eyes darkening in a fierce anger.

I nodded in comprehension. Of course. The mafia was fond of their secrecy.

"You're in the mafia headquarters," I informed her, watching with concern as her face paled. "You okay?" I asked, not wanting her to pass out again.

She nodded, though her eyes were still wide with fear.

"… D'you know _why_ you were kidnapped?"

Again, she shook her head.

I paused, biting my lip, thinking. Suddenly it occurred to me. "What's your name?" I asked her.

"Matsuda Amaya," she said.

Matsuda… the name brought back memories of the hacking, searching, researching of nearly a year ago… And then it clicked.

"Matsuda? Is your father Matsuda Touta?" I asked eagerly.

"No, no… my uncle, my father's brother," she said. "Uncle Matsu has no children."

Of course. This was all about the Japanese police force!

"Amaya," I said in a low, urgent voice. "I think you were kidnapped because your uncle is part of the police force working on the Kira investigation." I watched her eyes widen—so she didn't know.

"B-but… what do they want from Uncle Matsu?" she whispered, eyes half-filling with tears.

I shrugged hopelessly. "Information? Your guess is as good as mine. Though I wouldn't doubt that this is about revenge. One of theirs—Yagami, I think—forced Mello to set off some explosives in a warehouse we were using as headquarters a few months ago. That's the reason his face is scarred. They also know his real name, now."

I watched her face cycle through many expressions—fear, anger, loss, confusion, then back to fear again—as she absorbed all of this new information.

"Wh… What will h-happen now?" she stuttered. I know what she meant without her saying it. What would happen to her?

My mind raced through plans and calculations quickly before settling on one that was brilliantly simple.

"Where's the blindfold they used on you?" I asked quickly, still in the same low, urgent tone.

"Over th-there, somewhere…" she whispered, gazing into the darkness over her shoulder. "They undid the handcuffs but left it, and as soon as they left me I tore it off and dropped it…"

She let out a low gasp as my hands encircled her waist, carefully lifting her off of me and setting her on the mattress. I stood, bones cracking, and in three long strides was across the room. I knelt and felt with my hands for the scrap of cloth.

Within moments I had it clutched tightly in my fist. I turned back to Amaya, who shrank back slightly at the sight of it.

"W-what are you going to do?" she pled as I firmly turned her shoulders away from me and began to tie it—not too tightly—in place. She began to shiver again. I leaned forward to hiss into her ear. "Relax; it's going to be okay. I'm going to get you out of here, Amaya, I promise." For a moment she just sat, arms limp by her sides, then finally she nodded tremulously.

I helped her to her feet, and then led her towards the door, one hand under her elbow. Then I reached to the holster at my belt, under my shirt, for the gun that I rarely revealed and even more rarely used. I hated to frighten Amaya further, but this had to be convincing if either of us wanted to make it out alive.

When she felt the muzzle of the gun press lightly into the small of her back Amaya gave a low cry and nearly went limp with terror, but I assured her quietly that it was okay, again. "Just trust me," I pleaded.

Then I took a deep breath, and thrust the door open.

I had a rigid grip on Amaya's shoulder and forced myself to be a little rough as I led her out to where the rest of the gang was lounging, talking and laughing raucously. When Mello saw me a wide, wicked sneer ruined his handsome features as much as the long scar marring the left half of his face. "All done, Matt?" he called, causing the other mafia members to look up and jeer towards me and the girl.

"Was just starting to wonder if I should come check on you," he said, hopping down from where he was perched on the back of the couch and sauntering towards me. Classic Mello—he couldn't resist putting on a show."What happened—couldn't get it up?" He laughed crudely along with the other thugs. I shook my head. "Had me a lot of fun… maybe a little _too_ much fun." I forced myself to be every bit as lewd as they. "Think I might hold onto this one for a little while." I winked. Mello nodded. "Just keep the blindfold on 'er, till you get back to your apartment. And, Matt?" He added as I began to turn away, towards the elevator. I looked over my shoulder, filled with dread. Had he really seen right through me so easily? But no—his face was relaxed, amused. "Don't let this one escape." Turning back away, I chuckled darkly. "Oh, don't worry," I said under my breath as I marched Amaya forward. "I won't."


End file.
